


find your own kingdom

by Laurentia



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurentia/pseuds/Laurentia
Summary: The heat was oppressive, sticky, not made better by the fact that her head was resting on a warm, bare stomach, rising and falling with ragged breaths and making her all the warmer.





	

The heat was oppressive, sticky, not made better by the fact that her head was resting on a warm, bare stomach, rising and falling with ragged breaths and making her all the warmer. Her hair stuck to her face but she couldn't bring herself to move: in the midst of her haze Rosamund was aware that she could do with a drink and quite suddenly the vague desire became an outright need but still she couldn't bring herself to actually move to quench that particular thirst. Instead she licked her lips and shuddered at the indulgent taste that still lingering.

Under the covers – why on _earth_ did they have covers in this heat? Monaco was warm and humid this time of year, no one was here but the diehards and those with nowhere else to go, and them of course but Rosamund was quite sure they were increasingly falling into the second category. Of course her awareness of the realities of their lives didn't detract from the fact that she at least was under a blanket and the lingering smell of sex and sweat was beginning to cloud her senses and make her forget about fresh air. She savoured it for a moment longer, her fingers playing idly with hip much rounder than hers as her lovers breathing became quite normal again. God, she had missed this moment the most. The pleasure was wonderful of course but this sensation, the intimacy, the feeling of ownership in a single moment of utter bareness, she had missed _this._

Breaking the spell that she knew with absolution would be woven once again and soon Rosamund pushed the covers from their bodies and immediately felt the change that came from having much cooler ait hit warm skin. Vera's hand grasped out fruitlessly for the sheets that were beyond her reach now and she made a mewling sound in the back of her throat that Rosamund knew was displeasure; she couldn't remember when she had learnt the different noises but it was probably somewhere between Nice and Monte – a journey of only a few hours but one that had taken them a week staying at various guest houses.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

The voice was weak, from tiredness rather than anything else, but too languid to be truly admonishing and Rosamund smirked and rolled her eyes at the other woman, knowing full well that the reprimand was nothing to do with cold air causing nipples to pebble next to her lips as she slowly slunk her way up Vera's body. For whatever misguided reason the Irishwoman was quite convinced that there was something wrong with her body and no matter how much she tried Rosamund was yet to entirely dissuade her of that notion.

It _was_ odd though. After a bottle of wine or two Vera was only too happy to tell her the tale of the scar above her knee but under no circumstances could Rosamund even _look_ at the lingering mark on the back of her hip. There was a slight but telling stretch to her stomach that Rosamund's lacked with white lines baring the signs of where her skin had accommodated something Rosamund didn't like to think about: she never asked and didn't really want to. There was no child so the chances of the story being anything other than depressing were very low and she didn't want to spoil their life. It was much nicer this way.

"Don't be absurd," she pushed herself up, her lips trailing over soft, pale skin possessively. "It's nothing I haven't seen before darling."

Vera didn't move from her repose but Rosamund saw a distinct eye roll that only amused her. She climbed up the bed until she was close enough to press her lips to the corner of the other woman's slack mouth, not moving until she got a response and a tongue brushed against hers. A small laugh rumbled in the back of her throat as the other woman seemed to perk back to life but Rosamund rolled off her, slumping luxuriously in the bed that was far too big for the two of them but she had absolutely insisted on; she'd had Vera all but _bribe_ the manager to get her this room and she didn't want to know how her maid cum companion had managed it when the hotel had allegedly been full.

"It's hardly the point. There's _nothing_ you haven't seen _m'lady._ "

Ignoring the mild slight on her virtue Rosamund stretched out like a cat, rolling onto her stomach to reach for the glass on the bedside table. The wine here was exquisite and so dirt cheap that she wasn't quite sure why she had never thought of relocating before – she liked being frugal after all and here was the perfect place to do it. No one had the slightest idea of the price of things and she could keep both of them in considerable style without feeling the kind of pinch everyone in England was beginning to.

"Here, drink this," she passed the glass towards the still reticent woman. "And do stop being such a grump. Normally it's nice to thank someone for that," she nodded her head vaguely towards the other woman's waist, licking her lips as she did.

Finally giving into Rosamund's obvious lack of intention to sleep Vera pushed herself up into a sitting position. She had learnt in their time together here, there and everywhere that it was not especially wise to remain recumbent in Rosamund's presence for too long, she did have a terrible habit of pouncing, although Vera couldn't say she inclined to complain too much.

Fuck, she mentally chastised herself as she followed her own train of thought, she was starting to think how the other woman bleedin' _spoke!_ That couldn't be good. She knocked the wine back in two gulps and moaned in pleasure as it went down, licking her lips to savour the vintage she would have to sell her soul to afford without her mistress.

"Thirsty?"

"Always am."

Rosamund topped the glass up, sitting up at the top of the bed, quite unashamed in her own nudity and Vera's eyes roamed over her. It wasn't fair that a woman who was bloody _older_ than her was holding up so much better, but then again Rosamund had hardly suffered in her life. Not in any way that would have strained her body anyway.

Vera smiled and reached out to run a finger against a thin bottom lip, rolling her eyes when it was playfully nipped and sucking the taste off afterwards. She smirked, warmer than before and sipped at the glass before passing it over to Rosamund, who immediately and eagerly undertook the task of finishing it.

"What do you fancy tomorrow then?"

Vera slipped off the bed momentarily, finding the slip that she'd lost some hours before. Rosamund might complain but it wasn't that bloody warm and what if somebody came in?! _  
_

"Oh for god's sake!" Rosamund barked at her, half-laughing and half-aghast. "No one's coming in. I've told you before the chances of there being a robbery or a fire-"

"Well I'm sorry we're not all such _fine_ ladies-"

"It's got nothing _at all_ to do with being a lady and everything to do with being a bloody nutcase-"

"It's not hurtin' you is it?" She knew Rosamund was right but defiantly pulled the silk over her head, arranging it so it gave her a better shape and at least made an effort to keep her breasts a bit higher. Corsets might be a bugger but she bloody well missed them these days.

Fucking fashion.

"I prefer you without but this'll do I suppose."

Rosamund rolled over on the bed, looking like a child as she did. A naked and grown child with an empty crystal glass rolling in silk and ermine granted, but a child nonetheless as she grinned up from under curls that had wrapped themselves around her flushed face.

"Come back to bed. I haven't told you what I want to do tomorrow."

Vera reached for the light switch on the wall and clicked it off. Precisely _why_ Rosamund insisted on leaving the lights on she never knew but it had taken her an embarrassing few encounters back at Eaton Square, and then on the boat - where they'd both been sick most of the way from the motion and drink - and even as far as Paris before she'd managed not to blush. In the end it had been feeling like a fool that had forced her to shed her clothes more, rather than any sense that being naked in direct light wasn't somehow a sin.

She'd long since thrown away her rosaries and prayer book so she didn't know what kind of sin it was, but it definitely felt like _something_.

"What then? I don't think your boyfriend's back till next Thursday."

Vera felt her way back to the bed and slid on it blindly, able to find her way back to when the other woman had curled into the pillows instinctively.

"What Raymond? I've told you, there's no need to pout, he's just useful for getting into parties. No one knows me here."

"I thought that was the point?"

Long fingers found her hip again and she allowed herself to be pulled closer until Rosamund's breath was hot against her cheek.

"Partly. That and the fact that no one knows you. I don't want to go on my _own_ do I but they wouldn't invite you if they knew-"

"What?" She snorted with laughter as Rosamund pushed her over onto her back, her sleeping position being decided for her apparently. "That you found me in the gutter."

"Well that's what I tell people but you do such a good impression of someone entitled that usually they don't believe me."

"Oi!" She swatted at the hand that was slinking from her hip back up to her breast: she was far too bloody tired for round three tonight.

"Oh do shut up," quite unconcerned about the endeared reprimand - not the first for today, nor the last for tomorrow - Rosamund rested her head against skin again. "We have a lot to plan."


End file.
